


here is where my love lays

by brynnmclean (ilfirin_estel)



Series: cast some light 'verse [7]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate POV ficlets, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Cassian Andor: Cunnilingus Addict, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Face-Sitting, Ficlet Collection, Hand Jobs, Kissing, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Originally Posted Elsewhere, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rope Bondage, The Turbolift Scene, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, cast some light 'verse, sub!Cassian, these tags are all out of order
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 12:11:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15315234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilfirin_estel/pseuds/brynnmclean
Summary: The gentleness of Cassian's mouth on Jyn's is devastating, stealing her breath when he pulls back and rests his forehead against hers.  The way he says her name lights her on fire, filling up the hollow places in her chest.  It’s too much.  It’s not enough.Or, the ficlet collection for the 'verse.





	1. the first kiss / the kiss in the turbolift - Jyn

**Author's Note:**

> These ficlets were all originally posted on [Tumblr](http://brynnmclean.tumblr.com/tagged/cast-some-light) and scattered in my original ficlet collection [I waited for the crash to come](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10963536/chapters/24406689). I didn't want to lose the feedback I received on those chapters, but wanted to post them in here within the 'verse for organizational purposes! So! Here we are.
> 
> Most chapters will correspond to another work in the 'verse and are meant to be alternate POV moments from the longer works. (Except for the first one, which has been referenced as part of the 'verse.)
> 
> If you've already read these, I hope you enjoy rereading them! All POV ficlets written and posted after 16 July 2018 will be housed in this collection only. Chapters might be edited in the future to include more ficlets.
> 
> <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10963536/chapters/24406689) and [here](http://brynnmclean.tumblr.com/post/160914163899/before-i-tripped-and-suddenly-wrote-11k-worth-of)!

As soon as the doors to the turbolift hiss shut, Cassian sags against the wall as if a vibroblade severed all the wires holding him up. Jyn staggers into him, thrown by the change in weight—and it’s awful, the sound he makes when she accidentally pushes against a wound. 

She recoils like a blaster shot, overtaxed muscles wrenching as dismay spikes through her. The apologies on her tongue burn back down her throat when she swallows against her own pain and nausea. 

Now that they’ve made it out of the chaos of battle—the roar of explosions, the whine of blaster fire, the shrieking of starfighters overhead suddenly distant and leaving her ears ringing—Jyn feels every bruise, every strain. She fights the urge to let it wash over her and pull her to the durasteel floor. Whatever she feels is nothing in comparison to what Cassian must be feeling. The sick snap of his body during his fall echoes in her head, and she swallows bile back down again.

Jyn sees him in flashes, the cuts bleeding sluggishly from his forehead and mouth, the bruise blooming purple around his eye, the color stark against his sick-grey pallor. His eyes are squeezed shut, brow furrowed, nostrils flaring as he breathes, unsteady.

His hand is heavy on her shoulder, fingers twisted in a rip in her vest. A shudder rolls through him to her and she veers closer, fear sharp and cold as shrapnel caught in her chest.

She touches him before she realizes what she’s doing—stars, she wishes for bacta patches, a medkit, _anything—_ her mind racing as she starts cataloguing all the possible injuries and how long it would take to heal them. _The next chance,_ she thinks inanely, planning out the path, picturing the shuttle, the stars, the medcenter. But the images are grainy, no strength or solidity or color, just hopeless black and white dreams that slip out of her grasp.

“Jyn,” Cassian murmurs, gripping her wrist with a grimace, and everything else falls away except for him. When she looks at him, there’s a light in his eyes that softens the lines of pain. Beneath her hand, there is the heat of him, his skin fever-flushed. He inhales, sharp, at her touch, but he lets her slide her fingers along his side, skirting over his fractured bones. 

Jyn’s throat feels raw, her voice scraped out of her and scattered to the winds. She can’t tell him what she wants to say— _I thought you were dead, but here you are, you came back, you keep coming back_ —but those words are nonsensical, and they can’t convey what is in her, the sheer exhausted relief at the mission being complete and not being alone in the aftermath.

“You look like shit,” she finally manages even though the thought she’d had up there on the platform at the sight of him through the smoke is caught behind her teeth, an ache: _Force, but he’s beautiful._

He makes a small sound that could almost be a laugh, one shoulder twitching the sketch of a shrug. “It’s all right. It’s over.” His lips curve into a smile that cuts through her, straight between her bruised ribs. Here he is before her, broken and bleeding, yet still warm, still breathing. 

There is nothing else to do but kiss him.

She fists the front of his shirt, her hand shaking as she gathers the scraps of strength to tug him closer, closer so she can press her mouth to his—off-center, she gets the corner of his mouth at first, but he adjusts and opens up to her.

He tastes like rust and salt, one hand pressed against the small of her back while the other cradles the side of her face, thumb grazing her cheekbone—and she wants to bury herself in him, find a way into his blood to heal his hurts, the fault-lines shaking him. The gentleness of his mouth on hers is devastating, stealing her breath when he pulls back and rests his forehead against hers. The way he says her name lights her on fire, filling up the hollow places in her chest.

It’s too much. It’s not enough. It’s not _fair—_ there’s no time for all that she wants, the fierce desire to _live_ so sudden and desperate in her. She wants to know him, the tenderness as well as the steel—the soldier, the spy, and the man.

“Cassian,” she says, so many words crowded in her mouth. There’s no time for all the wishes and questions and half-formed dreams.

“I know,” Cassian replies, a choked-off sound that makes Jyn think maybe he does, maybe his heart is cracking inside him too.

There’s no time to ask. The turbolift grinds to a halt and the doors open, letting the light and heat and dying of Scarif in.

They stumble out to face it together.


	2. introspection - Cassian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](http://brynnmclean.tumblr.com/post/177042322769/i-was-going-to-write-tonight-but-instead-i) and might be expanded later to be a longer fic on its own or a chapter of [heavy on your shoulders](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12318576/chapters/28006800).
> 
> Chronologically, this is set before [cast some light & you'll be all right](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9856910).

Cassian Andor knows what has been said about him around the base. He tries not to follow gossip, tries to shut off the part of his brain that takes in scraps of information, no matter how small and innocuous it seems, and puts the pieces together to form a whole picture. But he’s been in Intelligence for so long, he hears chatter and tucks it into mental files as easy as breathing—though sometimes he’ll hear something that will catch in his lungs, snagging on silent insecurities before he can lock down the data and put it somewhere out of sight and out of mind.

There’s a mental folder in his head labeled “Impression Management”, or just “Impressions”. Of course there are notes in there from his psych evals, about how he shouldn’t be in the field so often, should have a partner, a better support system, a damn therapist. He’s closed-off, he compartmentalizes more than he should, no one really knows him because the Alliance needed someone who didn’t have ties to anything besides the mission and the burning bright Cause. He made himself into someone who could be anyone Command needed, building walls around his heart so that if he fell in the field, others wouldn’t need to waste time mourning before carrying the torch forward, always forward to the goal of Freedom from the Empire.

 _A good man to have in a war and Draven’s best operative_ is noted down in the file, but also, _Andor, he must be lonely, you know?_ Laughter in the mess hall, just loud enough to be heard, _cold-blooded Andor? Nah, he’s got as much feeling as that KX droid that follows him around._

There’s a trend in the gossip, a whole compilation of talk concerning him being unfeeling, an android, _must have ice-water in his veins, but I’d love to make that man moan—_ if he digs deeper into that section of the file, he comes across all the overheard speculation about his bedroom habits, and a handful of old memories. It makes him—uncomfortable. In a way he doesn’t like to analyze.

It’s been a long time since he’s felt attracted to someone. Attraction, like sex, has been a rare thing in his life. That handful of old memories, some good, some bad, some a mix of both. Attraction and sex both became irrelevant to his personal life—didn’t matter, didn’t need it, didn’t want to be close to anyone, and attraction usually only came on the heels of familiarity, of knowing someone first, though even that was sometimes complicated.

Two different people took him to bed and added to the report. The first, _his_ first, a brash Spec-Force cadet: _he’s not so quiet when you’ve got him on his back, I got him to sing._ And then later, a pilot who transferred to a different base, a kinder lay: _he made me feel good, I wish he’d stayed longer._ The others—two others—they hadn’t kissed and told.

He doesn’t know what Jyn has heard. He tries not to wonder what reaches her ears… or if she finds any of the information _relevant_.

It’s been a long time. And it’s also never been like this before. His feelings for Jyn feel like a new discovery, something that shifted the ground beneath his feet, changed the orbit of a planet around its sun.

They’ve kissed once. In the turbolift on Scarif, broken and bleeding and clinging to each other, full of hope and relief—and he’d kissed other people before, but never like that, never where everything he was was laid bare and given over. He’d kissed her and wanted her closer, wanted to be closer, thought, _oh. I’d give you everything if there was time. Please—_ that last word an internal shout to fate, to the Force, to all the stars in all the skies, _please. More._

They lived somehow, against the odds. But they haven’t kissed again.

Cassian thinks about kissing Jyn more than he’d like to admit. 

He thinks about taking her hand and pressing his lips against her knuckles, about brushing his mouth along the column of her throat, of reaching out across the little space between their bodies in the bed they’ve been sharing for a few months now. He wants to run his fingers through her hair and kiss the nape of her neck, wants to find some way to convey the constant, tender ache in his heart for her.

If he reaches out for her, will she reach back? Will she pull him in and kiss him back?

The idea of kissing her mouth again is like a fever-dream, desire grown from a gentle warmth to a blazing inferno. And though compartmentalizing has never been challenging before, it can be difficult to keep his thoughts from traveling beyond kissing.

He wants to be closer to her, to make her feel good—and to stay wrapped up in her afterward. There’s nothing cold in him when he imagines having her naked in their bed, hearing her cry out with pleasure and letting her see how he shivers at her touch.

But he won’t ask for more than she’s willing to give. He can keep quiet. What intimacy they already share—it’s enough. It can be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ETA: in case anyone is interested, my brain decided to tell me in my sleep that Melshi is one of Cassian's quiet exes, so here's [a small ficlet](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15702735/chapters/36522840) re: that.


	3. cast some light & you'll be all right - Jyn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These were originally posted [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10963536/chapters/27285324) and are in Jyn's POV from [cast some light & you'll be all right](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9856910). Tumblr links are in the little titles for each ficlet.

**[the first time](http://brynnmclean.tumblr.com/post/165060987464/pov-for-the-writing-prompt-pretty-please) **

Jyn doesn’t plan on jumping Cassian after that mission, it’s just that— she cracks some wry joke as they’re walking away from the ship and his whole face lights up with a laugh, and she looks at him and suddenly thinks, _yes._ It’s the shock of surprise, it’s a gorgeous victory, it’s a rush of want so fierce that it nearly knocks her clean over. She takes his hand for balance just as much as the need to touch him, to get her hands all over him and make him _shout._

There isn’t a thought in her head when she pins him against the cargo containers except _yes, more—_ and the sounds he makes when he bucks beneath her, how he throws his head back and presses into the scrape of her teeth, _stars,_ the barely bitten back moans that fall from his mouth— something in her feels wild with joy, knowing that she’s the reason he is so wrecked with pleasure so fast.

“Jyn, wait, I’m—” he gasps, clutching her hips, and she can’t help but grin as she kisses him and kisses him. _I did that,_ she thinks when he spills over in her fist, shuddering and making tiny, helpless sounds against her mouth.

The only other time she’s kissed him has been when she thought they were both dying. This is better, so much better. She kisses him while he comes and thinks, _yes, here, now, we’re alive._

 

-

 

 **[kitchen kissing](http://brynnmclean.tumblr.com/post/165155226644/for-the-fic-favorites-meme-the-scene-in-cast-some)**

Jyn is on the right side of tipsy after just one ale, though she thinks maybe it’s not just the alcohol that is making her feel warm and bright—maybe it’s the company she’s keeping, the smiles on everyone’s faces, the laughter that fills up the room. There’s a sense of relief in the air, an overall release of tension because there’s nothing on anyone’s agenda tomorrow, no drills or mission briefings, just the promise of rest for a little while.

Cassian is over in the kitchenette making something that smells amazing while everyone else crowds around a game of sabacc. Jyn lost early with a truly dismal hand, but she doesn’t even mind because she gets to sit and relax and laugh the hardest she has ever laughed in her entire life as Bodhi wipes the floor with everyone else with a sheepish little grin on his face. He keeps ducking his head and looking at Luke Skywalker from beneath his eyelashes—Luke is trying so hard to pull some innocent farmboy act, but a boyish smile flashes across his face as it becomes clear that he’s Bodhi’s only competition after a few hands.

Jyn suspects they’re both cheating, but she hasn’t been able to catch them at it, far too entertained by all the flirting. It’s a delight to see Bodhi laughing, a blush darkening his cheeks. He keeps glancing at Luke’s mouth, and Jyn really hopes he works up the nerve to kiss Luke before the night ends.

It’s sweet. There’s a tender place behind her ribs that feels laid bare. She doesn’t know what to call it, thinks maybe she should curl herself around it and keep the vulnerability hidden—but not tonight. _You’re safe here,_ she thinks to herself, and that thought sounds like—

“I’m getting another drink,” she declares to the room at large, feeling her own face flush suddenly. Bodhi looks up from his cards and the look on his face turns wry and knowing. Jyn pulls a face at him and leaves before he can comment or call her out.

The drinks are in the kitchen—as is Cassian. Cassian with his back to her, humming snatches of a song as he stirs something spicy on the stove. Watching him, she forgets about her excuse of getting another ale.

Cassian covers the pot on the stove and adjusts the heat before he turns to her, and—it hits her like it always does, like an electric shot, sharp and startling, how beautiful he is. Especially when his lips tilt upward in a smile, so small and soft. For a moment, she lets herself believe that smile is a private thing, just for her.

She veers closer to him without a thought, caught in his orbit like always, helpless against the pull of his presence. The clink of her empty bottle on the counter sounds loud to her ears, but Cassian keeps his gaze on her.

“Hi,” he says and it’s unfair, it really is unfair, the way his eyes crinkle at the corners, the way he ducks his head a fraction and bites his bottom lip. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to his elbows and he busies himself with wiping his hands off with a dishtowel. “Dinner should be ready in—” he begins, but she’s already taking advantage of his distraction, darting in and tugging him down by his collar so she can press her mouth to his.

His lips are soft, surprise gentling the curve of his smile, and she comes up onto her toes automatically just to be a little closer to him. 

For a split second, she thinks of Scarif, of the turbolift and how she’d wanted to lose herself in the desperate press of his broken body against hers. She thinks about that first kiss only because of the contrast here. There’s nothing fast or pained now, only a slow, rolling heat—no blood or tears or jagged edges, only the warmth of him and how she fits against him, like this is where she belongs. She closes her eyes and lets herself revel in it.

A sudden burst of laughter from the other room startles her, shattering the moment. She jerks away, but Cassian doesn’t let her go far, a small noise of protest all the warning she gets before his hands frame her face and he pulls her back in.

She shivers in the heat, falling into him again. _You’re safe here,_ she hears again, and hopes.

 

-

 

 **[the breath](http://brynnmclean.tumblr.com/post/165065075514/pov-cast-some-light-verse-please-and-thanks)**

As soon as Cassian finally, _finally_ takes Jyn’s pants off, he just… stops. She hears his breath catch and everything goes very still. His hands rest on her spread thighs, and he stares down at her with this look in his eyes that makes Jyn shiver all over, sparks scattered across her bare skin. 

His gaze on her is so soft. He’s taking her in, and the strangest thing is that there’s no fear in her at the thought, no animal recoil, just stillness and warmth. And an ache in her chest where her heart beats because she wants this. She wants him.

No one has ever looked at her the way he is now.

“What are you staring at,” she asks, and her voice trembles. _Touch me,_ she wants to say, _touch me._ It’s caught in her throat because it’s so vulnerable, new born and fragile. The wanting. 

“You’re beautiful, Jyn,” Cassian says, hushed, reverent. “You’re so very beautiful.”

Jyn looks back at him and sees no trace of a lie, no hidden knives. There’s only gentleness in him, and an open longing that shakes her to the core.

 _I trust you,_ she thinks. “Come here,” she says instead, and rises up to meet him, giving herself over, letting him in.

 

-

 

 **[either way](http://brynnmclean.tumblr.com/post/166927980084/anghraine-asked-awhile-ago-for-a-pov-prompt-from)**

“You good?” Cassian asks Jyn, something careful in the question, one of his hands resting along her spine, fingers tracing the knobs of her vertebrae. She can’t help but think about how he’d had those fingers curled inside her and it had felt good, he had felt so good. He still does, all pressed up against her, the hard line of his cock against her thigh.

He doesn’t rock into her, and his voice is soothing in her ear, no trace of impatience. Not even a hint of demands.

Later, she’ll wonder why she isn’t afraid, why it doesn’t occur to her then that he could nudge her legs apart and shove his cock inside her without asking. Another person might’ve. But he didn’t, he doesn’t, he—

—catches her wrist when she traces the line of dark hair that disappears into his pants. He makes it clear that she has a choice, that he doesn’t mind if he comes tonight or not. “Either way,” he tells her, and honesty rings out clear in the words.

It makes all the difference in the world. The honesty. The choice.

“Either way,” she echoes him with a helpless smile that makes her cheeks ache a little. Everything feels warm and bright and _safe_ here with him. She wants him, wants the gentleness in his voice and his touch. She wants more, wants to give the same back to him.

 _Together now,_ she thinks as she wraps her hand around him and he slides his fingers back inside her. _Together._

It’s unfamiliar, but she isn’t afraid.


	4. waiting to step forward - Cassian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10963536/chapters/27302166) and is Cassian's POV from [waiting to step forward](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10441419). As before, the Tumblr link is in the little makeshift title for the ficlet.

**[can I have you](http://brynnmclean.tumblr.com/post/165196548749/for-the-writing-meme-pov) **

Jyn doesn’t cover up the marks Cassian left on her throat. There is plenty of time for her to go back to their quarters after breakfast to grab her scarf, and Cassian knows _she_ knows they’re there, dark red against her pale skin. She hadn’t seemed angry or embarrassed when Kay tactlessly pointed them out, but that had been among their friends, not everyone else on base.

Still, she keeps her hair up in her customary bun and she doesn’t wear a scarf. Cassian sees how she rolls her shoulders back and walks tall down the hallways, how she brushes her fingertips absently along her neck as she looks over a datapad, how a smile lingers on her lips throughout the day.

He—well. He can’t help but stay close to her, drawn in by the sight of her proudly displaying visible evidence that he had his mouth on her. He’s used to a few side glances aimed his way when he’s carried the imprints of Jyn’s teeth just above his collar. It’s different seeing his marks on Jyn.

Another man might feel possessive, even smug. But it’s not ownership he feels, it’s—he feels _floored_ by the reminder that she shook apart in his arms. He wants to hold her again, to kiss her all over and taste the salt-sweat on her skin, the warm heat of her cunt. He wants to hear her moan and tell him, _yes._

He wants to ask her, _can I have you, can we be alone,_ but every time he glances over at her, he feels wide-eyed and clumsy, stunned silent by the memory of how she clung to him and came. It’s a good thing they don’t have a mission to prep for because he’s tempted to drop everything and tumble her back into bed.

To his delight, she asks for him. She’s the one to make their excuses and bring him back to their quarters. “I want you,” she tells him, voice trembling a little, but gaze steady. Certain. “Please.”

 _You have me,_ he thinks when he gets down on his knees.


	5. I wanna hurry home to you - Cassian & Jyn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10963536/chapters/27302166) and [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10963536/chapters/27388128) and are now in chronological order! These are alternating POVs from [I wanna hurry home to you](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10888026).

**[“I couldn’t tell.”](http://brynnmclean.tumblr.com/post/165280029019/rover-kelevra-asked-me-re-i-wanna-hurry-home-to)**

Cassian fumbles though getting out of his clothes because he gets distracted by how Jyn strips her shirt off and messes up her hair, strands of it falling out of her customary bun as pins tumble to the floor. Her belt is undone, her pants hanging low on her hips because she forgot to take her boots off first. Stars, he wants his hands on her already, wants to press his mouth to the jagged knife wound scar above her waistband, wants to follow the line of it down. He tries to pull his mind back to the conversation and task at hand, instead of the rush of blood gone south. The meeting, yes. “I considered leaving early.”

“I couldn’t tell,” Jyn tells him, voice dry as dust and a frown on her face as she tugs her boots off and tosses them aside. “You had your Mysterious Spy face on.”

Oh. Cassian feels the smile on his face fall and is glad Jyn’s attention is elsewhere. _Oh._ He watches her and wonders, surely, _surely_ she must know that he wasn’t indifferent, that he isn’t cold to her, not now, not ever. He’s been accused before of being unfeeling, of being as unfamiliar with human emotion as a droid, but he isn’t—he doesn’t— _you_ must _know,_ he wants to say to Jyn here and now, _you must know how I feel about you, surely…_

He can’t say it, well-honed instincts screaming that she might run if he isn’t careful. He can’t say it yet. But he can show her.

 

-

 

**[teasing](http://brynnmclean.tumblr.com/post/165209755959/pov-jyn-i-wanna-hurry-home-to-you) **

Jyn shifts her weight above Cassian, shivering as he runs his hands all along her back and then down to cup her ass. He looks at her from between her thighs with those beautiful dark eyes of his, his mouth open and lips soft, bitten red. He tilts his chin up and she stifles a whimper as his breath rushes out against her cunt. He doesn’t push or pull her to him, just lets the tip of his tongue trace over her folds, the barest touch. She’s so fucking wet and wound tight, she wants little more than to rock herself down and sink onto his tongue, make a mess of his face—but there’s something fascinating about watching him choose to strain to reach her. When she twitches away from him, he tips his head back against the pillows and groans. The way he says her name fills her up with a wild kind of joy.

“I’m sorry, did you want something?” she teases, letting him try again to get the taste of her he seems to want so desperately. His eyes drop closed, heavy-lidded, as he manages one, long stroke of his tongue, gathering up her slick before she moves away again.

But he fights dirty, too, trailing warm, wet kisses along her thigh, his voice pitched low and pleading. “Jyn,” he murmurs, nuzzling into the red marks he’d sucked into her skin. “I want you. Come on, Jyn, please...”

She already wasn’t going to be able to keep up the game for long, not with the heat in her belly, the restless need that’s been building for hours. Cassian trembles with pent-up desire beneath her, dragging his mouth up to her groin, begging for her so beautifully that she folds. She folds so easy, knotting her fingers in his hair and tugging him right where she wants him. Right where they both need.

 

-

 

**[“I made a mess of you.”](http://brynnmclean.tumblr.com/post/165994772554/rover-kelevra-asked-for-jyns-pov-when-she) **

“You good?” Cassian asks Jyn, his arms around her, fingertips tracing idle patterns on her back— _star lines,_ she thinks and wants to laugh, giddy and overwhelmed by the rush of her release. Of course she’s good— _he’s_ good. She can’t even string the words together to tell him, sparks still dancing along her skin everywhere he touches her. She wants to stay here in his arms forever, soaking up the warmth of him while she catches her breath. She’s not done with him yet. Maybe she never will be.

She buries her face into the curve where his neck meets his shoulder, hiding her smile against his skin. His fingers skitter over the knobs of her spine, light shivery touches that have her arching into him, hopeful for more. She wants him to splay the palm of his hand heavy against her shoulder blade— _Force,_ she wants his grip on her to go desperate again, clinging as he rises up beneath her, gasping in her ear. She’s not done, not by a long shot.

She rests a hand low on his stomach, pleased when he jumps and his breath catches audibly in his throat. His fingers press hard into her back, and she purrs with satisfaction.

“Jyn, wait, I already—” Cassian starts, voice strained, but she’s already slid her hand into his underwear. He moans when she finds him spent, come sticky and wet all over his softening cock. The discovery has her flushing all over, curling closer to him and feeling heat creeping up his throat beneath her lips.

He’s already come and his hands had been on her the whole time—he’d come completely untouched. It’s _exhilarating,_ that realization. She trails her fingers along his length and the head of his cock, ghosting over his slit, just to feel, just to see—and his whole body jerks into her touch, more come spilling from him as he whines, a gorgeous, almost pained sound that sears inside her, burning in her blood.

“I made a mess of you,” she murmurs in Cassian’s ear, the fire in her so warm and sweet as she holds him and he settles back down.

“You always do,” he tells her, and she has to kiss him then in answer, her heart trembling in her mouth.


	6. safe house in the hurricane (1) - Cassian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on AO3 [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10963536/chapters/30078945) with the following notes:
> 
> This was originally a response to the **no excuses writing meme** for a "before the beginning" prompt. This is meant to be before [safe house in the hurricane](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11425506/chapters/25599018) and has been expanded from the post that can be found [here](http://brynnmclean.tumblr.com/post/165385897509/if-youre-still-doing-the-meme-before-the).

There are a lot of shouldn’ts about this upcoming mission—it _shouldn’t_ be difficult, there _shouldn’t_ be trouble, he _shouldn’t_ be gone long. It feels like tempting fate to say much, so Cassian bites his tongue and tries not to let anxiety creep up along his spine and breathe against the back of his neck.

He shouldn’t be worried. The basic plan is to go in, get the lay of the land, find information and sow some seeds of rebellion, and then come home. 

Home. It catches him off-guard still, that he has a home now, something beyond the war as a constant in his life. _Home_ —and it isn’t the traditional definition of one place, not a physical location in the galaxy. It’s the family he never expected to have crowded in the hold of a ship, laughing over caf and sabacc games, and watching each other’s backs in the fight.

Cassian is leaving in the morning, and the truth is, a part of him doesn’t want to go. Kay will be with him for part of the mission, mainly acting as his co-pilot, but a good amount of the time, he will be alone.

Missions like this are nothing new. The mix of feelings before he departs, however, are new. He’s no longer a spy with nothing personal to lose. He has a home. It isn’t a place, it’s people. And it’s one person most of all.

Cassian still hasn’t told Jyn. There should still be time, but if there isn’t—

Jyn is out forging scandocs in another part of the cruiser while Cassian paces around their quarters, gathering up everything he’ll need for the trip. Bodhi sits at the edge of the bed, keeping Cassian company, and Cassian wants to say it out loud, even if it isn’t to the right person. 

“Bodhi,” Cassian says quietly, carefully. He keeps his gaze focused on the task in front of him, his voice coming out raw though he knows Bodhi will keep these words safe. “I love Jyn.”

Bodhi huffs and wraps his fingers gently around Cassian’s wrist, stopping him from shoving more supplies into his pack. “That’s not news. The whole galaxy knows that.”

That pulls a smile to Cassian’s mouth even though he shakes his head. “Can you…”

“Tell her, if something happens to you? Keep an eye on her while you’re gone?”

Cassian’s shoulders twitch with the barest of shrugs. He worries at his bottom lip with his teeth. “Try to convince her to rest, if you can.”

Bodhi reaches over with his free hand and skims his fingertips along Cassian’s cheek, and Cassian lets himself be turned to face his friend. His brother. It’s all right if Bodhi sees.

Bodhi studies Cassian for a long moment before he nods slowly and lets go. “Come back home to us, yeah?”

Cassian nods back, holding Bodhi’s gaze. “I’ll do my best.”

There shouldn’t be anything to worry about.


	7. dying to be taken apart - Cassian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10963536/chapters/31982337) and is a to-be-expanded ficlet of Cassian's POV from [dying to be taken apart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12179187).
> 
> Content warnings for rope bondage and sub!Cassian.

**[“I’d like you to fuck yourself into my fist and stop when you’re about to come.”](http://brynnmclean.tumblr.com/post/171185384994/okay-but-could-we-have-a-small-snippet-of-dying) **

“Jyn,” Cassian gasps, dropping his weight back down onto the bed, his cock sliding out of the circle of Jyn’s fist.  He bites his lower lip and fights back the heat in his belly, the tightening of his body.  Jyn said to stop when he was about to come, so _stop, stop, be good for her,_ he tells himself, straining against the ropes around his arms and torso because the bite of them helps drag him back from the edge.  He can hold himself together, he can show her that.  

“Jyn, please, I want—” The words tumble out of his mouth, burning on his tongue.  His heartbeat races against Jyn’s palm when she rests a heavy hand on his chest and presses him into the mattress.  

With his arms tied behind his head and her hand holding him down, he feels both pinned and on display, a shivery kind of vulnerability hollowing him out—but Jyn fills in the emptiness, her breath, her scent, the warmth of her body and her voice in his ear, telling him what she wants.   _Be good, show her you can—_

“Do you want to come?” Jyn asks with a warm and wicked laugh that curls inside him and makes him flush with pleasure and embarrassment.  He’s right there, right there, trembling with the effort of trying to be still.  He’s never heard himself make such a sharp whine in his throat when she sucks one of his nipples into her mouth, teases at the nub with her teeth.  There’s a hint of pain, but it doesn’t mask the descent of her hand low along his belly and he _can’t, he can’t—please—_

“No,” he moans, throwing his head back and twisting his hips, his cock jerking and spilling more precome against his skin.   _Please._  “No.”  It’s too much, he can’t bear to be the focus anymore, he has to turn this around, has to be of use to Jyn before he falls apart.

“No?” Jyn strokes his sides soothingly, but her voice betrays her surprise.  Maybe she thought he’d beg to come, but that isn’t right, it wouldn’t be right, he hasn’t done anything to earn it.

He means to say that, means to say, _please let me give to you, let me,_ but he stumbles, each word that comes out of his mouth halting, desperate until he almost manages to get to the heart of it: “This is for you.”

Jyn is silent.  

Jyn is silent and still, though her hands rest gentle against his ribs, holding him together when he feels like he’ll fly apart.  Cassian clenches his jaw against the ice-cold anxiety jolting down his spine, the fear of rejection snapping in the face of sense— _this is Jyn,_ Jyn, _home and light and love, still here, still_ —but he can’t look at her face, terrified of what his offering means to her.  Maybe it’s too much, maybe he should have just taken what she wanted to give him, even though he hasn’t done anything for her yet.  He wants to be good, wants to please her—and isn’t this about her, about listening to her, and he _didn’t—_

Jyn’s hand cups the side of his face, warm, grounding, turning him toward her.  “Hey, Cassian, look at me.” Her voice slices through his spiraling thoughts, pulling him back from that storm, rays of sunlight cutting through grey.  He shivers as the ice cracks and melts. He can’t meet her gaze yet, though her words reach him, insistent. “What you want matters. _You_ matter.  You’re good to me.”

He asked for this.  After she talked through her plans for him, she had asked him what he wanted.  Heart pounding and face flushed with embarrassment, he’d asked her for _praise_.  He hadn’t prepared himself to get it.

It’s _agonizing_.  

_You’re good to me._  Those words slide between his ribs like the blade of a knife, burying deep in his heart and twisting against his bones, fracturing him open and flooding him with heat.  He flinches the way he never does when his hand is on a gun, straining again against the ropes around his arms, but Jyn is there, draping her body over his, her hands against his skin.  He wants to tell her, _don’t_ , afraid the jagged edges of his heart will cut her, but she holds him together until the feeling begins to fade and the world reorients itself.  
   
Jyn.  She surrounds him, enveloping him with the feel of her body, the scent of her skin.  She kisses him, tender and soft and loving. _You matter._

“You’re good to me,” Jyn repeats, and Cassian somehow finds the strength to finally look at her, her light chasing away all shadows.  “Do you believe me? Do you trust me?”

“I trust you,” he says, helpless.  He’s lost in the starlight caught in her green eyes.  But it’s all right. She feels like home.

She presses a kiss to his forehead, a gift, a blessing, and he—all he wants is to deserve the gentleness she’s giving him.  “You don’t have anything to prove,” she tells him, kissing his cheeks. He’s burning up beneath her now, her words sparks catching flame.  “I’m here with you. You—you matter to me, Cassian. Tell me what you want.”

Cassian doesn’t know how he finds the daring to kiss her then, this supernova of a woman.  He turns, turns, turns toward her, her lips on his salvation.  “I want to make you come,” he says when she breaks away, every fiber of his being full of desire. “Before me. Please.”


End file.
